


Ship of Fools

by charll



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bisexuality, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/F, F/M, Gen, Heist, Lots and Lots of Thievery, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Organized Crime, Sex, Sexual Identity, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love, Violence, fujiko is gr8, lupin/jigen endgame, minimal amount of research, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6910720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charll/pseuds/charll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the very unlikely chance he would run into Jigen on the streets, caving and coming to Lupin's rescue as he'd done in the past, he'd written a short note scrawled in his usual flowing handwriting:</p><p>"I'm doing the deNatale job, be back later with something to make it up to you." - Lupin</p><p> </p><p>(this is a very indulgent fic in which I try to write Jigen, Goemon, and Fujiko steal a bunch of stuff as a team in Lupin's stead, and there's also a lot of making out and junk.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the rambler, the gambler

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write fic with location/timestamps so please bear with me. I am only going to use them when it's relevant to the story, otherwise I will use page breaks.

  
_This is bad_ , Lupin thought; praying to any deity listening he hadn't broken out in a visible sweat, hoping that he'd not lost out on luck yet. This was uncommonly bad. Caught with his pants down and in a less than comfortable position. One stray thought would drift through him as minutes on a ticking clock ticking by;  _tick tock, tick tock._

 

Perched on the edge of a luxurious corinthian leather couch was Arséne Lupin the Third, fighting the urge to tap his foot rapidly up and down and appear as an absolute mess of nerves.

 

Opposite to him was Vido, a richly clothed man in a silken white suit. Lupin had begun examining the man the moment he'd entered his presence . Vido deNatale was a man who was born and raised into the high life; rich tastes, rich life-style, nicely aged silver hair and cheekbones you could cut a diamond on.

 

A steady and well trained hand carrying a silver platter had produced a sparkling flute of champagne for the thief; a gesture of good will from Monaco's elite. The thief had half a mind to toss it in deNatale's absolutely smug (and frustratingly youthful) face.

 

_"Do we have a deal, my friend."_

 

It wasn't phrased as a question and Lupin knew it. He hated the underlying grime coating those last syllables. As pristine as the man's outward facade was, Lupin could could feel his corrupt sleaze. Lupin leered as the man downed his drink in one final gulp while somehow still remaining elegant. His poker face was slipping second by second. It was not the time to show insecurity or disgust, not while there had yet to be an escape route. _We're not friends,_ he thought.

 

Lupin took the glass from the weathered butler, having been standing in wait for some time. Donning his best shit eating grin he raised the glass to his lips and nodded in acceptance. _Keep smiling, dammit._

 

**Pearl Suite of the Chateau Blanc Hotel, Monte Carlo, Monaco - Tuesday, 08:00 PM.**

 

The air in the small, furnished hotel room had grown thick and tense. What was once a reasonably nice hotel room, with debatably questionable taste in aesthetics and hygiene, had been replaced with a cigarette smoke filled, headache inducing war zone.

 

The once soothing effect of the blue pastel wallpaper was long gone. Every bit of stimuli now contributed to the headache centered over the middle of the room. Smoke from two lit cigarettes (and the multitude of those before them) had clung to the air and hung over the room in a stale cloud.

 

 _"I'm out,"_ the response from Jigen was a terse and obstinate one, a tone reserved for a very specific set of circumstances.

 

Lupin, sitting comfortably across from the man reclining on one of the couches, pawed playfully in Jigen's direction, taking a moment to snuff out one of his Gitanes in an overstuffed ceramic ashtray. He knew why the man was so opposed, but he couldn't help but play the game. It was as if it was hard coded into his genes, much to his partners' discomfort.

 

"Come on, what's it to you?" he laughed, knowing it was akin to prodding a sleeping bear. Lupin, red jacket discarded, inched forward with his elbows resting on his knees in a form of mock innocence. He addressed his partner once more. "It'll be a fun one, I promise!"

 

There it was. It only took a second this time, like a desperately short fuse had both lit and blown. Jigen's voice lost the low and languid drawl that had perfectly mirrored his laid back demeanor.

 

"No dammit," comfort disturbed and ire sparked, the man snuffed out his unfinished cigarette in the overflowing tray with a bit too much vigor, causing a few dead cigarette butts to spill out onto the low coffee table - a final act of rebellion - and rose from his now defiled lounging position on the worn couch.

 

Now filled with sharp irritation, Jigen slung his jacket over his shoulder and brusquely headed for the door, "-and stop acting like a damn child all the time!"

 

Door slamming shut, Lupin recovered with a momentary snort of defiance, muttering a few profanities in French, indifferent - or more likely - momentarily unaware of his other companion occupying the space. Recovering, he threw out one insult in a language their samurai could hear loud and clear.

 

"-yeah I'm the child, Jigen." In actuality, Lupin was rather stunned (and a little angry himself) at how explosive his partner's reaction had been. And perhaps at his part in causing it. Goemon would be sure to notice his pouting after that last insult.

 

"You're truly blinded by your lust for that woman. If what Jigen says is true, I believe the stakes are too high for too little a reward. He is wise to refuse."

 

Lupin couldn't control the immediate furrow of his brow at Goemon. He knew they were right, but Mine Fujiko was like a drug. A crazy, beautiful, drug that ran him ragged and always reeled him in for more. _Trapped in a cliche,_ he sighed.

 

He'd heard through the grapevine that a certain red-headed femme fatale was working her way, mark by mark, in this direction. And the French Riviera was too big of a target to pass up this time, so full of riches and indulgence. If she was on her way to Monaco, he'd get in front of her somehow.

 

"So, I take it you're out too," He motioned over to the samurai sitting out on a the small veranda, far away from the drifting nicotine miasma.

 

"It's selfish," Goemon replied. Lupin rested his head back against the couch arm and closed his eyes in a moment of quiet thought. The words echoed lightly in the forefront of his mind.

 

Fujiko didn't need anyone else, no team to share the thrill of pulling off a big heist, she'd betray them first. And she never got along with anyone after too long, most of all Jigen.

 

Thinking about the two of them made his head start to rush. it was getting hard to pinpoint what exactly he was feeling after a while; jumping from one thought about Fujiko's soft curves to another about falling asleep on Jigen's shoulder as he drove, feeling the comfortable warmth through his black jacket. Soon all he could remember was a terribly anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach, like a pinch.

 

 _"Selfish."_ he mumbled. "You guys are such a pain sometimes," he finally sighed. Finishing his cigarette, he rolled off the couch with a resolute thump and left Goemon to the now empty hotel room.

 

Jigen would probably be out late at some dive. But just in case the man came back to the hotel before midnight,  Lupin wrote a short note scrawled in his usual flowing handwriting:

 

_"I'm doing the deNatale job, be back later with something to make it up to you."_

_\- Lupin_

 

**Vido deNatale's Estate, Le Colle, Monaco - Tuesday, 10:00 PM**

 

Lupin was regretting bringing the Fiat. The voice in Lupin's head had mimicked that of his partner's from times long past; _yellow was so loud._ But it was his favorite, and he was almost positive his partner just enjoyed riling him up. Now of course, it was different, like some sort of game they both only half participated in, done with endearing familiarity instead of bitter barbs.

 

He was left to the task of hiding the bright vehicle, his stomach dropping slightly as he noticed the estate was secluded in the middle of nowhere with only a sparse smattering of trees to surround it. Any guard looking out a window wouldn't have to strain their eyes much to see it. He was leaving a lot up to chance with this job, mind drifting to an image of a man in a hat low over his eyes sulking in a bar. A second goes by and he wished he'd chased after the man. A few more and he hears a breathy moan on soft red lips that only exist in his head. Resolute, he'd see this through.

 

"Yeah, screw you, Jigen," he swore with a mumble as he moved as many branches as he could to camouflage the offensive car.

 

Hiding it the best he could, he waded through the darkness of the night and headed for the western most wall; ever thankful he'd passed up going to Grace Kelly's tomb in favor of learning the guardsmen postings and shift rotations in Le Colle.

 

* * *

 

 

The man known as Vido deNatale was not an outwardly violent man. From his tastes, one could say he liked the finer things in life. He liked things orderly, and he was not one for surprises. One could also say that he was not quick to anger. Those who would say that however, would be the fine people seeing the man every Sunday at the local church services, enjoying a coffee at the local cafe; meticulously constructed, purely superficial.

 

 

To the good, upstanding day folk of Monte Carlo, who would never know the fear of owing money to the wrong people, or the weight of a pistol in their hands, Vido deNatale was an affable, god fearing man. Underneath his facade was still somewhat of a mystery.

 

He was the definition of professional, someone capable of running the miniscule country's illegal activities without fail - without desire or lust for power. He kept the crime families happy, he kept the people of Monaco happy. Giving the right people what they wanted would give him everything. 

 

 _Don't stay longer than you have to,_ Lupin thought to himself. He wasn't scared, per se, but he didn't ignore everything Jigen had said earlier. DeNatale's reputation had his interest piqued, his guard patrols however, did not.

 

Street clothes left behind in the car, Lupin was now fully clothed in one of the typical black bodysuits he preferred for stealth jobs. He loved the feel of moving freely as he went in for the steal. This time he was lighter than usual as he chose to for go his usual gun holster and beloved Walther.

 

Clad in black, he'd successfully made it into the west wing of the manor undetected. He knew that side of the estate had been less guarded, though there were still little places to hide. Lupin had been eternally grateful for his array of gymnastic abilities in particular for saving his skin in this instance. Climbing up and between two high and narrow walls to evade patrolling guardsmen had gotten him to the door of the security room. He needed to disable the cameras before he could move on safely and without incident for the rest of the job.

 

DeNatale was an interesting man, Lupin mused. He had the ventilation shafts built too small to fit any adult body. He obviously didn't want to make it too easy for him or other thieves, but he only had one guard manning the security office.

 

"Interesting in this case being another word for lazy." He chuckled as he slipped into the now unconscious guardsman's uniform and dragged the man into a nearby utility closet.

 

Soon enough he was in the final hall, made up wearing a snug guard uniform and convincing prosthetics. The hall was in the form of an "H" with four different entrances to four different chambers and two guards posted at the hallway connecting in the middle. Knowing they wouldn't let him pass. Even as another guard, he figured it would take a bit of old fashioned distraction, a Grandpa Lupin Classic.

 

Each doorway had adornments of finery; vases, paintings, small sculptures perched on marble pedestals. Making himself as scarce as possible behind a larger sculpture and up against the wall, Lupin brought up his wrist and popped open the now crosshaired frame of his wristwatch, activating one of his favored gadgets. Setting his sights on a beautiful vase with intricate spindly blue flower patterning, he pressed one of the small side buttons on the watch, launching a pin and shattering the vase.

 

"Sorry beautiful," he whispered in a quiet and sincere apology to the treasure, lamenting the destruction of the item that would ensure his safety.

 

Within seconds the two guards had rushed over to the far end of the hall, huffing and scratching their heads. Lupin, sucking in a quick breath quickly tip-toed from his hiding spot before they could turn to inspect the opposite side of the hallway, making his way to the end of the room and through the door to the treasury. The door closed, and with a click his heart leapt into his throat. Back flat against the closed door, he found himself staring down the barrel of a beautifully engraved single shot revolver.

 

Catching himself, he took a look around to notice he wasn't at all in the treasury, but a lavishly decorated bedchamber, with one, Vido deNatale. He was dressed impeccably in white, standing calmly in front of him with  his gun in hand. Vido's face did not convey anger or displeasure, but instead amusement. Underestimating the man in front of him, Lupin tried pushing his luck with some charm, relaxing a bit into the familiar role.

 

"How about that." He laughed, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head; a tick he'd developed ages ago to convey mock ignorance. "I was sure this was the treasury."

 

 _"Lupin the Third,"_ the tall and deep voiced Vido put his gun in the holster within his jacket to wave the thief over to a lavish coffee table at the other end of the room. "Please, come and have a drink with me."

 

It wasn't what he'd expected, but he was happy to oblige. _For now._  Remembering to keep his wits about him, he followed the man over through the room, now rid of the prosthetics that obscured his face.

 

He made sure to note that while not the rumored treasury, the room was still adorned with enough riches to be quite convincing. The wallpaper was inlaid with gold, which led the eyes straight to the sophisticated moulding running along the edges of the walls. He passed towering bookcases housing private first editions of books long past their print runs. How he'd love to get a longer look at some of those titles.

 

Removing his white suit jacket, carefully folding it over, and setting it aside, Vido sat in a plush leather couch. Crossing his legs comfortably, Vido took the moment to motion for a man, an older gentleman, to bring a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Lupin sat opposite, though not daring to sink into the leather in Vido's natural and comfortable fashion, he would find it harder to stay on guard while being plied with drink.

 

"So is this standard procedure for all the mice you catch, or just the pretty ones?" The man across the table stifled a small laugh at the thief.

 

"Mm, It's not." Eyeing the thief like a bug under a microscope, "But you're quite the interesting one, Lupin." 

 

 _"Interesting?"_ He rubbed his chin, "Yeah, I could say the same about you, couldn't I? _Very mysterious,"_ he would wink were the encounter under different circumstances, though the night was still young.

 

"Breaking in here is no easy task. I think it's made me quite the fan of yours." Now Lupin understood. That was why it was so easy to break onto the grounds For all his pretense, he simply wanted him for his skill set. No doubt there was a safe deNatale money couldn't crack.

 

"Sorry," he rose to his feet with renewed confidence, "'I'm afraid I don't take requests. Even for a fan." He only had to say two words to have the man subdued and once again sitting across from him, now rapt with attention.

 

'Pearl Suite.' _When did he-_

 

"You know, Mr. Lupin, I had your whereabouts monitored the minute you and your _charming_ friends snuck through Beausoliel." Lupin tried to hide his distaste for the way he spoke of his friends, with a smug and superior laugh.

 

Though the petty remark had thrown him off slightly, the underlying meaning had rung dangerously clear. This man wanted something of him, and it was big enough to threaten him with Jigen and Goemon. He really should have taken Jigen more seriously earlier, knowing if he had, he wouldn't be sitting across from the man now offering up threats through a practiced smile. Vido was the underworld in Monte Carlo. If he wanted someone lying dead in the Mediterranean Sea with a bullet through the heart, _he got it._ The cards Lupin had been dealt would be slowly falling into his opponent's hands, and the best thing he could do was put on his best poker face. But he was always good at surprise comebacks.

 

"Really?" flat toned, false surprise and humility, he tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat as Vido had pulled the revolver casually out and pointed it at Lupin once more, as if it were nothing.

 

"At any time I wish, the occupants of that room can be whisked away and never seen again. _That is my promise to you, Mr. Lupin."_ He waited for the stale air to settle, seriousness dying down and being replaced by a drawn out sigh from the man clad in white.

 

  
" _Now,_ " he paused as Lupin's slightly confused face played catch-up with his words, "about my jewel collection," 

 

  
"It's what you came for, _non?_ It's yours."

 

  
"How very generous of you, _Monsieur Number One Fan_ ," Lupin smiled brightly, "but I wouldn't be the Gentleman Thief if I neglected to ask-"  _The catch._ There had to be a catch, he'd thought anxiously. It couldn't be that easy. Things were never just easy. This was the start of their game.

 

"A little wager," as he spoke, the butler he'd sent off had returned with a bottle and two glasses. Lupin sat back, waiting for the man to continue.

 

"I have a list of treasures-" Lupin's attention wavered. _List of treasures the greedy basted no doubt wants me to steal,_ his mind finished.

 

"-And you want me to steal them for you," he finished with boldly disinterested yawn only to see Vido wish his finger raised in a wag, a scolding gesture.

 

" _Tsk tsk_ , eager aren’t we?" Lupin crossed his arms in slight impatience and embarrassment.

 

"Yes, I would like them stolen, however," he paused for effect, _"not by you."_ Lupin perked up at the end of his sentence, curious, but also cautious. "I'd like your _little ensemble_ to act in your stead, while you remain here with me." It was a strange request and he didn't know whether feeling offended at the suggestion was somehow an insult to his team's competence. Not that his friends couldn't handle a job or two on their own, but he worried for them sometimes. It was unnerving.

  
"What do you gain from this?" It was hard to sound anything but defensive, to not reply with a snap. The man to his side was waiting with a filled champagne glass, but he didn't want to drink with Vido, this man who acted like he held every card. He knew the man wouldn't just let him walk away, even if he declined and refused the terms. He wasn't walking out unscathed.

 

"Entertainment, my friend." he smiled wryly as he procured a champagne flute from the old butler. "I am a man of mystery as you say."


	2. sin, sin, sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fuj, jigen, and goemon have some interaction while lup sits poolside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually write fic with location/timestamps so please bear with me. I am only going to use them when it's relevant to the story, otherwise I will use page breaks.

_**Pearl Suite of the Chateau Blanc Hotel, Monte Carlo, Monaco - Wednesday, 10:00 AM.**  
_

 

 _Lupin was right._ Mine Fujiko had come to Monaco, much to Goemon's suspicion and Jigen's displeasure.

 

"Well, this is certainly not what I'd had in mind.” The redheaded woman clad in black riding leathers was delicate in speaking, and yet carried a weight that brought many men and women to their knees. She'd entered the decidedly unimpressive hotel room, bold heels connecting with the aged wood flooring in a resounding echo. She'd walked confidently into the hotel room, already criticizing the establishment's decor.

 

"Where has Lupin's taste gone," she settled down into a rococo styled settee, grimacing lightly at the worn creak that escaped as she sat. Jigen would have laughed, feeling more bold perhaps, if Lupin had been present, provided the thief wasn't fawning all over the woman. He had always been more or less wary of women, being double-crossed by this one was enough to solidify serious trust issues with the opposite gender. He didn't feel like being jovial for Fujiko today.

 

"What's in Monte Carlo, Fujiko?" He was cold and blunt, and she could read him like an open book, and in her opinion, a rather dull one at that. Lupin was gone and Jigen was not good at filling his spot when it came to playing games of cat and mouse.

 

"Not before the first date, _dear,_ ” She spoke knowing the words leaving her painted lips would put him in knots, knowing the man was all bark. Even though she'd come to the country with her own task, she knew making contact with Lupin and his friends was more than likely. Jigen didn't frighten her. 

 

"Alright, you want to play games,” he removed himself from the bare wall he was leaned against and made his way to the couch adjacent to her seated position, lifting his pack of Pall Malls out of his breast pocket and offering her a cigarette. "You tell me why you've interrupted our breakfast and I'll tell you why Lupin's got us holed up in this depressing place.”

 

Jigen immediately felt bad about insulting the quaint hotel. He knows he's still cranky from the previous night, but he doesn't owe Fujiko a damn good attitude, and frankly, she doesn't care.

 

"Nicotine for breakfast, _oh how charming Jigen_ ," she offered a wry little smile that almost made him blush. _Almost._ Instead he reciprocated with a contained chuckle that was almost friendly.

 

Taking the cigarette between her fingers and producing her own lighter - while she appreciated the cigarette, _they're not friends,_ and she prefers using her own lighter - she agreed to the terms with an amused nod. She took a long drag, recalling how many times she'd heard Lupin complain about how strong Jigen's cigarettes were - _unfiltered, strong_ \- she didn't mind.

 

"I needed some help finding someone," Jigen was expecting something completely different, some scheme or con involving Lupin risking his neck (and theirs) so she can make out with the loot behind their backs. But as she goes on thinks he hears a hint of sincerity in her words. It would be so easy for the woman to insert herself into the situation, like she was used to, and just make their problems worse, leaving them penniless. He does his best to hide his surprise when she mentions nothing of lost treasures or a dying aristocrat fiancé. "I was running out of leads and I was hoping Lupin would-"

 

"- yeah about that," he took a long drag from his cigarette, taking the place of a sigh, and she thought off-hand how bad that had to be for his lungs, "Lupin is missing." It's at that moment that Goemon deems it appropriate to join the pair, done with his own morning meditation ritual.

 

"You wouldn't have anything to do with that, _would you,_ ” he adds as Fujiko lets a bit of the ash from her cigarette fall to the floor.

 

She turned to the dark haired samurai with a simple flick, gaze fixed almost provocatively on Goemon. Her lips parted briefly only to close into a thin line.

 

“Goemon,” She pouted, “how could you think such a thing of me.”

 

She’s not naive enough to be truly offended at the accusation, however she feigns it enough to cause the man’s gaze to waver. Goemon did his best to keep his resolve from crumbling, steeling himself. His weakness had always been women, and in his heart of hearts, Fujiko had been at the core. He forgets himself sometimes around Fujiko, forgets about softness.

 

 _"Alright, alright,"_ Jigen motioned with his hands in a vain attempt to seem calming, sensing the tension rising in the air. It would be almost humorous - _him acting as some kind of pseudo-mediator between Goemon and Fujiko_ \-  if he didn't have a damn hangover to contend with. Drinking late into the night had been a mistake, as the dull throbbing in the back of his skull had become exceedingly more painful with each time Fujiko opened her mouth. He was thankful for the rush of nicotine at least, easing the pain and calming his nerves.

 

_Lupin, why am I doing your job?_

 

“Look, it had to be asked because last night he ran off to do something ridiculous and, well-"

 

"And you thought I had something to do with it." The way the two seemed to catch up with each other to nod in unison would have made her laugh if it were under different circumstances. She didn't mind helping them get to the bottom of the situation, if it helped her to get what she wanted. 

 

She could care less as to how it looked in their eyes, Lupin was less likely to help her if Goemon and Jigen kept eyeing her with suspicion. They were right to. She couldn't help but half smirk and shake her head. _What a bunch of idiots,_ she thought.

 

_"So?"_

 

"He wanted Vido deNatale's jewel collection," Jigen said as casually as he could, trying to not think about the reasons why, or be bothered by it. Fujiko was smart enough to put the pieces together. When it came down to Lupin's feelings for her, he was completely transparent.

 

"Well," she drawled with a small hint of a sigh, "I'm not one to balk at a gift from a suitor, you know," She caught herself, simply ending her sentence there. She could have easily continued and offered a reassuring refusal of Lupin's endeavors, knowing it would put his partner at ease, but she held herself back. That just wasn't her style. Of course she'd noticed how it always set his teeth on edge, noticed the silent toll it took. instead, Fujiko would take in the cold glare she knew Jigen was throwing her way underneath that hat of his. _She wondered if Lupin knew-_

 

"The man has a reputation," Goemon didn't mean to add insult to injury, though it was enough to knock Fujiko out of whatever planet she'd been orbiting, mouth slightly a gape. Jigen sharply rasped after a puff of smoke in correction, _"deNatale."_ \- _Get your brain out of the gutter._

 

"The jewels are small potatoes," as he abruptly changed the subject, Fujiko brightened up slightly, "he's probably the most active and we'll connected crime lord in the country."

 

"I'd heard rumors of a kingpin around these parts," she responded while Goemon followed along quietly now in his unimposing and inoffensive manner, "but I didn't think it was him."

 

"Mm, but I'm not sure on all the specifics. I've never crossed paths with him. He definitely has cornered the market on gambling and private auctions."

 

"We should be cautious," Goemon added, "whatever Lupin has gotten into may have caused a stir." Monaco was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.

 

"Of that we can be sure," Fujiko added, stamping out her cigarette and rising to her feet.

 

An agreement had been made. Though Jigen and Goemon still stood in the dark over what the woman before them truly sought in the micro country, they were professional enough not to pry _(for now)_ and accept her help where she offered it. What she had come for would likely be revealed later. She would head to the estate on her own, as Lupin's bright Fiat was likely already there and marked as belonging to the thieves. Keeping in radio contact, they went to look for their lost sheep.

 

_**Vido deNatale's Estate, Le Colle, Monaco - Wednesday, 12:30 PM.** _

  

The estate was, without a doubt, magnificent. It was the absolute definition of indulgence. The state itself was one known for its great wealth, but the deNatale estate was almost as grand as the Monarchy's. Unlike much of the country, the estate was located in seclusion, no neighbors or prying eyes, but with enough space and acclaim to house grand and exquisite events. It was a home that was not constructed solely for the enjoyment of one man, but for those with enough wealth and influence to flaunt. Common folk would most assuredly never see the rooms beyond the strong iron gates and indulgent gold inlays.

 

One such place was a domed structure seemingly made of clear and pure crystal, a gleaming glass pool house. The sun would shine through the panes and project beautiful prisms of refractive light, while the pristine pool water reflected from below. The flooring was comprised of a smooth white marble, the entire structure like a monument to hedonistic excess.

 

Lupin found himself reclining in a chair a few feet away from the swaying pool water, clad in tight navy blue swim shorts - _Chanel_ \- Roche, the butler from before had procured them for him upon the thief's request. Every amenity was made available to Lupin, provided he stay within the confines of the estate. Lupin decided that if he was playing the game, he could at least enjoy it while he could.

 

The terms to the wager had him in a bind. His instincts were true in that he couldn't just walk away. Vido would have him detained for breaking and entering. And not in some standard cell he was used to that was easy to break out of. He'd go from a blip on a GPS radar to a nameless body deep in the earth. It was made quite clear to him that he'd walked straight into a trap that not only was a danger to him, but also his companions. If he did not indulge the master of the estate, he and his friends would be no more. 

 

To be fair, he had considered for a hot second simply forfeiting to Vido so he could indulge and live in the lap of luxury. This place was its own kind of paradise. He'd wondered if that was how Fujiko felt when she'd gotten close to some rich guy who had promised to take care of her every whim on the pretense of their marriage. Of course, this was different. If Vido won and Jigen and Goemon couldn't finish his high-end, luxury grocery list, Lupin would stay in Monte Carlo on the deNatale estate indefinitely. 

 

Vido deNatale didn't want a trophy husband. He wanted a _trophy thief._ The corners of his mouth twitched downwards in annoyance. Lupin was no stranger to a game of seduction. This man wanted a caught and collared thief that would sit and roll over and go fetch in exchange for all this, as if he could be bought and sold in a game of cards. The thought made the bile in his stomach churn and rise up. Though if Lupin won, the jewel collection was his, as well as all he could carry from the treasury, without resistance. He was simply trapped in paradise for the time being. 

 

His eyes were closed, and if anyone looked from afar they'd assume the man was sleeping. In truth he was deep in anxious thought. Any outsider could say he looked to be the absolute picture of relaxation, though that couldn't be further from reality. He'd accepted Vido's wager, and there was no other choice but to win. He'd put his faith in Jigen, Goemon, and the Goddess of Fortune.

 

Not more than a few yards away from the glistening pool house was an exceptionally large grouping of trees, with an exceptionally pissed off thief perched therein. Fujiko swore audibly as her legs dangled freely from the safety of a sturdy tree branch, thermal binoculars in hand. With a click of her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, she activated the bluetooth of her phone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _"He's just sleeping by the pool!"_ she crooned to the men on the other end, not knowing what to be more upset about; the knowledge that Lupin was apparently in no danger at all, or simply over the pure effort she’d exerted only to be made to look like an absolute _fool in a tree._

 

Jigen pulled the smartphone away from his ear as her voice rose to a crooning trill. He was less inclined to indulge her when it came to listening to the woman complain, especially when she began to moan on and on. With a breathy and exasperated sigh, Jigen returned the phone to speaking level and asked her to come back.

 

Goemon and Jigen exchanged small, worried looks. It would be just plain irresponsible to not notice how wrong the situation was becoming. If Lupin didn't contact them soon, Jigen wondered as he fully reclined on the couch he'd claimed, they'd be left with little options for a rescue attempt.

 

"Goemon," he drawled, “I know Lupin got into this mess on his own stupid time.” He expected the worst, and he knew it was all over whatever scraps of information Fujiko might spare. “But I’m not ready to let him die over this.”

 

Fujiko was on her way back if she was serious about wanting Lupin's help, she would have to be on board with their terrible decisions.

 

 


	3. Tango Oscuro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> also known as, the gang plays dress up.
> 
> http://www.polyvore.com/monte_carlo_look/set?id=201354675  
> http://www.polyvore.com/monte_carlo_look/set?id=201360769  
> http://www.polyvore.com/monte_carlo_look/set?id=201362217
> 
> some style boards i made to show the gang's look this chapter. 1. fujiko, 2. jigen, 3. goemon.

 

The drive back to the hotel had both distracted and reinvigorated her, no longer raving over Lupin in tiny designer shorts and being served free cocktails. Full of new energy, Fujiko carded a hand through red, windswept hair as she confidently strode through the familiar hotel lobby. 

 

  
She almost hadn't noticed when the front desk attendant had caught her eye and thew an arm up, waving her down. Fujiko recognized him as the man she’d spoken to hours ago in order to get an extra key made to Lupin's room. She'd turned to face him, bracing herself mentally for some sort of altercation or scene. She was an imposter on the original booking after all. However she was only greeted with an outstretched hand and a crisp sealed, white letter. 

 

  
"This was left while you were out. It is addressed to the guests in Pearl Suite."

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
He had been daydreaming at the worst possible time. Perhaps not daydreaming in the traditional sense, not lost in any particularly escapist fantasy, just simply lost to the world around him for a few sweet moments. That was, until the melodious lilt of Fujiko’s voice had pulled him away from his small moment of peace. _Had she been saying something_? He replied with a lazy nod regardless.

 

  
By the time Jigen had noticed the stammering and quite red-faced Goemon, it was already too late. What had he agreed to? 

 

  
“You wish to shame me further,” he sputtered, _“No!”_

 

  
“ _Please_ , Goemon.” _The man would crumble,_ she assured herself. Though, she gave him credit for denying her the one time at least, most couldn’t bring themselves that far.

 

  
“Look, it’s not every day we get invited to a fancy estate like this,” she paused, holding the silky gown up to her body in an nearly provocative manner, “ _without_ having to trick anyone to get in. Please, I just want to enjoy it!”

 

 _I want_ , Jigen scoffed, _classic Fujiko._ He’d surrendered to her whims this time, knowing there was no point in arguing. _Sorry, Goemon_.

 

  
“F-fine,” he conceded with emotions he tried desperately to mask. 

  
  
_Fujiko and Lupin can be so damn similar,_ he cursed in his head as the woman corralled the men into an adjoining guest bedroom, eyes resting on the collection of lavish men’s evening wear laid out on the large bed. Goemon whipped his head back as Fujiko cooed and closed the door behind her, not intending to let them out until they picked something worthy of a night out in Monte Carlo.

 

  
“Damnable woman,” he growled out quickly as Jigen sorted through the surprising amount of newly purchased clothing and accessories for something wearable. Jigen chose not to pay much attention to his companion’s embarrassment as he noticed the crisp _Givenchy_ label of a stylish black tuxedo and dress shirt. His favorite. _Damnable woman indeed._

 

  
He briefly looked over at Goemon, who had seemingly replaced cursing Fujiko for awkwardly pawing at a pristine white tuxedo blazer. Though now he’d donned an almost irritating scowl as he stared at the clothes laid before him, obviously trying to decide where to go from there.

 

  
If Jigen hadn’t known any better, he would think this an amazingly kind gesture from the woman. However, he wasn’t stupid. She’d made it clear while badgering Goemon that this was about her own gratification. He knew full well that this was only to satisfy her for the night. And while ultimately harmless, it was still a giant pain in the ass. 

 

  
“Alright, I’m gonna change,” Jigen started, carrying the hanger with the  Givenchy suit on his back and headed for the door. Hopefully Fujiko was still there to let him out and get dressed in the comfort of his own room. He knocked a few times to get her attention. Nothing.

 

  
“Fujiko, you still there?”

 

  
A bit of shuffling on the other end and the door cracked open a few inches, as if the occupant on the other side was some spinster who lived alone and didn’t want or expect company. Fujiko eyed him with suspicion.

 

  
“Don’t try to weasel out of this now, Jigen-“

 

  
“I’m not!” He tried to contain his agitation, “Look, all my stuff is in the other room," he sighed and pointed lazily across the room, "and I’d like to take a shower-“ Fujiko went against her better judgement, leaning in close only to immediately recoil and intturupt him mid sentence.

 

  
“Ugh, you reek of cigarettes!” The door swung open as Fujiko briefly retreated, allowing Jigen to slip past it

 

  
“Thanks,” he added dryly, closing the door behind him with a click. He never thought he'd be thankful for the past few days of chain smoking.

 

  
“No really, I would definitely suggest you burn your clothes,” 

 

  
“I got it, thanks!” He called in a loud reply as he walked into the other room, happy to be free of her chaos. 

 

  
 Finally some peace, he sighed as he loosened his tie, heading for the shower. Though he couldn't help but feel a slight pang of guilt as he could still hear Fujiko badgering Goemon through two sets of doors.

 

  
_She's all yours._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The car was a sleek black sedan; elegant and simple, and sent at  precisely 9:00 PM to pick up the three occupants of the Pearl Suite. And now, thanks to Fujiko, all three looked dressed to the nines; Fujiko floated effortlessly down the hotel walkway in a gorgeous and flowing red silk gown, backless and with a delicate rose detailing that excentuated her neck and shoulders, hair swept up.

 

  
Behind her trailed the two men, Goemon in a vibrant and light white tuxedo jacket and Jigen in black on black. If they had been located in any other part if the city they'd be turning heads.

 

Fujiko could have easily been mistaken for royalty. Though thanks to Lupin's brilliant plans, their hotel was out of the public's eye. They'd be in _Le Colle_ in mere moments once they'd begun driving.

 

  
The men who had greeted them in the car looked like nothing more than simple drivers, however their handguns aimed squarely at the three had proven otherwise. 

 

  
"Nothing's ever easy," Jigen mumbled as he pulled out a slightly crumpled cigarette from his jacket pocket, lighting it with ease. 

 

  
Fujiko's return earlier that evening had brought more than just information on Lupin. The men were surprised to see her clutching a white envelope with interest as she entered the room again.

 

  
Lupin's Mark, deNatale, was trying to get ahead of them. ' _This is so you know you've got nowhere else to run.'_ Jigen would be inclined to agree. There was no going back from this point, he knew.

 

And though Goemon gave his word to stick it out until the end, he still felt Lupin draped over his back and pulling him into some absolute unknown. Smoke drifted upwards from the damaged cigarette held limply between Jigen’s lips, their arrival pulling him out of an anxiety known only to him.

 

  
It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before they were arriving at a bold gate, denouncing the deNatale Estate. Fujiko briefly recalled earlier in the day when she was dangling from the tree tops, nearly ready to engage in some sort of half-baked rescue attempt. Regardless as to what Vido deNatale had planned, this was already much more her speed.

 

  
The drivers not only transported and ' _guarded_ ' the group, but escorted onto the grounds and through the manor's front door, guns back in offensive position. The foyer was grand in size and in wealth with marble floors and crystal chandeliers that carried a level of richness that bordered on royal.

 

  
Fujiko turned in a circle, openly admiring the interesting architecture and taste in decorating, though keeping her wits about her _:_ _What would be good and breakable in case I've got to make a fast and safe getaway?_ _Oh, is that the real Nécessare Egg over there, or the copy Marcos 'acquired' last spring?_

 

  
"Ah, right on time," a voice echoed from above, drawing the group's attention to the sprawling staircase in the center of the grand foyer. The man almost cheerfully making his way down the marble staircase to his guests was none other than the impeccably dressed proprietor of the estate, clad in a perfectly tailored black satin tuxedo with lavish golden embroidery that swirled like wispy smoke trails.

 

  
Though putting on a cheery and amiable face for the three, Vido's strong, clenched jaw and piercing grey eyes opened a small window into his more predatory nature. In an instant it was gone as he reached out to delicately take Fujiko by the hand, lowering his lips in formal greeting. Goemon's eyes narrowed at the action while Jigen held back a snort of judgement.

 

  
"I am Vido deNatale, your host," he adressed them all as he led them upwards, though still guiding Fujiko by the hand, as if he believed himself some chivalric knight. "I would love for you all to join me in my sitting room for drinks. We have much to discuss."

 

  
Jigen's patients waned with each step forward and flowery sentence that left the man's mouth. He wanted proper answers. Why the armed escort, and where the hell was Lupin? Goemon kept his hand clenched tightly around his Zantetsuken as the two men rigidly followed behind Fujiko and deNatale.

 

  
The part of Jigen that was ruled by anxiety was preparing for the worst, that Lupin would be nowhere they could ever possibly find him and Vido had summoned them to gloat or finish the job. The infinitely more rational part of his being was more convinced they were in for an interesting reunion.

 

 

A few short hallways and guard patrolmen later and deNatale had entered an absolutely stunning room, though the treasures and overall abundance took a backseat to the thieves.

 

Jigen didn't know how to feel, seeing Lupin quickly turn from his position facing away from the door, suddenly standing to meet his partner's gaze immediately. Lupin's mouth held slightly agape as he gave his partner what he thought was a discreet once over.

 

  
_Why is he looking at me like that? Why is my chest beating so fast?_

 

  
Seeing Lupin stare at him like that, like hed never seen before made it damn near impossible for Jigen to find words. Instead the two stood there, silent, wide-eyed, and red-faced for what felt like an eternity. In actuality, only a few seconds pass, and a push on the small of Jigen's back from Fujiko sends him forward, both out of the trap of Lupin's gaze and out of that place of terrifying, startled panic.

 

"So some dinky jewel collection in a place like this was too hard of a steal for the great Lupin the Third?" Jigen accused, half joking, trying to bait his friend and regain some of his own confidence back, "Don't know what you'll tell dear Fujiko."

 

 _"F-fujiko-chan,"_ he warbled, noticing the gorgeous woman hanging off Vido's arm. She offered a playful wave in return which only caused Lupin to hang his head in shame.

 

Gradually, the group moved over to the familiar area surrounding the coffee table, Vido sitting across from the three, him in the spot he'd occupied during his first encounter with Lupin, while Lupin now sat in a singular leather chair in between the thieves and Vido.

 

The entire situation was off. Champagne was served, and the man was acting as if they were honored guests or business partners, when the plain and simple reality if the situation was they were hostages.

 

"I'm sure you're wondering what exactly is going on," he smiled and raised his glass to his lips, urging his guests to do the same. Jigen eyed Lupin from under the brim of his hat, spying on the thief's nearly robotic posture. He was anxious, and it wasn't hard to tell - hands gripping the ankle that crossed over his knee, foot tapping a light but steady rhythm.

 

"To put it plainly, we are all here now because of Mister Lupin," the man spoke with a booming charisma that demanded attention.

 

"Look, I already agreed to the terms," Lupin whined, _"don't drag this out!"_

 

Goemon's brow furrowed in a silent agitation, while Fujiko simply turned to regard the thief in confusion.

 

  
"What _terms_ , Lupin," she nearly huffed, fighting to stay polite, "What did you do?

 

  
He hung his head in shame as Fujiko began working him over, slinging petty insults his way. Jigen met deNatale's gaze, drowning out the two squabbling thieves.

 

"DeNatale," he adressed seriously, suddenly silencing Fujiko's tirade, "what is this?"

 

"Your thief here simply failed to infiltrate my home and steal certain possessions from me. And punishment for this is to be pledged into my _services_ -"

 

Goemon held himself back, holding the arm steady that first reached for his Zantetsuken. Perhaps he was becoming too prideful, but his being swelled with emotion akin anger at this man's presumption and arrogance.

 

Jigen looked briefly back at his friend, if only to reassure him, then back at the silver-haired man facing them. The way he dared to look back at Jigen and Goemon, with a nearly antagonistic quirk of his lips, made Fujiko extraordinarily cautious. This man was a shark circling prey, waiting to catch the scent of blood in the water.

 

"Unless?" It was Fujiko who, while angry at Lupin for creating such a mess, was able to stay the most professional. She'd caught on to his game, realizing that they were there for a reason. It wouldn't do to wear her emotions on her sleeve. She would have to tell Goemon that later.

 

He eyed her with a bit of pride, knowing she was more than just a pretty face. "I will let him go, with the treasures he sought originally, if you are able to bring these various items to me in, _oh let's say,_ five days time." He handed Jigen a stark white envelope, strongly labeled in black, _"Do Not Open On deNatale Grounds_."

 

" _Huh_ ," he began to tear at the top corner, "this all really necessary-" only to be stopped by the slightly more condescending tone of Vido's chiding.

 

"I can tell you're the type who tends to break the rules." He sipped on his drink briefly, adding to the growing tension of the room. " _You look at the list when you leave."_

 

Smart men did not engage in business with men like Vido deNatale.

 

  
"I hate to get right down to it, but our time together is coming to an end." He ushered in the men who had acted as the group's drivers and stood. He was obviously expecting them to leave. Jigen's mind immediately started turning, throwing a quick look to Fujiko. 

 

"Wait, Vido," Lupin spoke up, shame and bitterness replaced with a sudden sincerity. Their host was beginning to tire of his guests, though Lupin needed more time. They couldn't leave now. _Think, think. Think of something, dammit!_

 

Lupin's train of thought was immediately forgotten when a firm and familiar hand clapped his shoulder.

 

"Don't deny the man one last goodbye to his woman, Vido." As much as he hated saying it, he did his best to sound as genuine as possoble. Fujiko formed a practiced pout as she turned her head dramatically from Vido to Lupin, and back to Vido, batting her eyelashes for added effect.

 

He fought back the grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched Vido succumb to the lie.  

 

"Ah, rather _unprofessional_ ," he mused aloud, mostly trying in his own way to wound Lupin further. "But who am I to stand in the way of love." He motioned for the escort/guards to take watch outside the room as he exited. 

 

"You have five minutes. The escorts will collect you when your time is up." 

 

  
" _What an asshole_ ," Lupin spat under his breath, approaching his friends. The mood would not be lightened by Lupin as Jigen couldn't help but panic internally over the situation.

 

"Really? I thought he was quite charming," Fujiko drawled in response, taking his bait.

 

 _"I told you,_ " Jigen's voice rose from a low mumble, "I told you this wouldn't work-"

 

"Hey, okay, you were right and I'm an idiot," Lupin shot back, "is that what you wanted to hear?"

 

_I was worried about you, asshole._

 

"No, I was-" he stopped, was held back by something tugging at his chest. Lupin's glare softened slightly as he looked at his friend, eyes taking a moment to drift up and down the length of his body once more.

 

  
_Fuck, he looks so good._

 

"Three minutes." Goemon's words pulled the two back to reality, the severity of the situation. The seconds ticked away as silence occupied the room, Lupin scratching the back of his head and looking down at his feet.

 

  
"Look, I'm sorry about this guys," Lupin started, eyes full of sincerity amd reday to meet his companions. "Sorry about getting you into this."

 

  
Taking the envelope from Jigen's hand, Fujiko smiled with a quick wink, _"We'll take care of it."_

 


	4. dig yourself, lazarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2017. So this was initially supposed to be a two part chapter but I decided against it at a later date and revised it. I'm introducing a bit more ocs and such. It's also a bit semi-freeform and where i don't clear anything up... oh at all ;)

 

Goemon was the first through the familiar doors of the rented room, already beginning to disrobe in a sharp and deliberate manner - darting across the room and behind a closed door.

 

  
Fujiko walked as if she were gliding on air, floating maybe, though with unsurprising purpose - Jigen thought as he quietly sauntered in after the two, closing the door behind him without a word.

  
"Whenever you are ready we should take a look," he brought the corner of the sealed envelope up and into her vision as a reminder. They didn't need one, he knew, but it was all he felt he could say to maneuver out from the cascading waves of tension this whole ordeal was causing.

 

  
Fujiko's gaze turned steely and serious for a moment; caught, fingers forgotten around the searing coils of curled copper. Jigen set it on the wooden coffee table and reclaimed a spot nearby on the couch, hoping the familiar nonchalance of his action cut through some of the unease.

 

  
The woman left once again, continuing to undress from the night's events, as light trails of smoke drifted upward to occupy her now empty space.

 

  
With his compatriots gone for the moment, Jigen found himself abruptly nodding off in the abandoned foyer, in a state of heavy lidded, half dream. A cigarette; a crumpled pall mall he'd stored in the suit jacket pocket, sat slowly burning away in between his parted lips. He was alone.

 

  
His state of partial awareness gifted him with small, half formed dreams. In a moment he could feel a tug on his subconscious, something he couldn't fully recognize. And in an instant a swell of heat was in his chest, so heavy he was afraid to move.

 

It didn't take long until the smell of burning tobacco carried another note, and Jigen is agitated awake, swearing and rubbing the flesh of his bottom lip and quickly stamping out the offensive cigarette. The action carried his eyes lazily over to the letter he'd set on the table, corner torn from his interaction with that rat, DeNatale.

 

He sat up and maneuvered his long legs back around the couch. He looked at the letter again, taking it in two hands. They're taking their sweet time, he thought, looking in the direction of the adjoining rooms.

 

  
"Hey," he called out to no one in particular, finding it increasingly hard to care if they were present or not, "I'm going to open it without you." His tone flat but loud, he'd given up and reached for the envelope's already open wound as he heard the unmistakable sound of bathtub water running.

 

  
He slipped his middle finger down into the torn corner, tearing it open with lazy flourish. It could have been an act of intimacy, if the circumstances were different. He tried not to think about the soft, sudden budding of heat in his palms and the odd swell in his chest. It felt like the crashing of waves against the rocky shoreline of the Monte Carlo bay. _He hated it._

 

He didn't remember when Goemon actually re-entered, but he remembered desperately trying to smother the heat in the pit of his stomach once he heard the familiar shuffling of a now barefooted compatriot.

 

  
Jigen couldn't really blame him or Fujiko, if he was being honest. He knew something was different. They knew Jigen was itching to break Lupin out, even if he didn't say it outright. And he knew that they knew. He didn't want to think about why it mattered so damn much - _why does it matter so much?_ He tried hard to re-focus his energy of the stupid letter.

 

The first thing he noticed about the note was the sparseness of it. Besides five small names listed plainly, there was nothing else to be seen, entirely different from Lupin's usual calling cards. The superstitious part of Jigen's brain told him this was a sign, something Lupin would wholeheartedly ignore. He'd describe it as a sort of supernatural itch, a kind of thing that Lupin would always make fun of him for. In Jigen's mind there were some things you just didn't mess with, and that caught his attention right after the austerity of the note.

 

"What the _shit_ -," his weighted exhale was lined with enough alarm to catch Goemon's attention; the samurai walked over to his companion seated on the settee near the couch. It only took Goemon a moment to spy the note's contents over Jigen's shoulder, letters clear.

 

 _"Fujiko!"_ Goemon called, taking it upon himself to get the woman's attention in the suite's adjoining room. Her strong, slightly wet steps rounded a corner, confident and attentive, coming to face the samurai. She was taking advantage of their suite, already dressed down to a fluffy, white bathrobe provided by the hotel, though she had yet to remove her glinting pearl earrings.

 

It wasn't hard for her gaze to take note of the strong downward slope his eyebrows took, or the thin line his lips made when he was more tense than usual. Definitely more tense than usual.

 

"What's got you so upset?" She asked as if she couldn't guess. The only man still fully clothed held the note outstretched for her to take.

 

"Look for yourself," Fujiko took the note, almost breathless for a moment as she read the contents. She thought to herself, hand poised over her mouth in a practiced motion. Fujiko felt a searing weight in the pit of her stomach as her eyes rove over the short list, a feeling she doesn't quite have words for yet.

 

  
Since returning from Le Colle, the three had not spoken much. It was a different kind of tension that pushed the boundaries of his own comfort levels. It was open season.

 

"Okay, it's not that bad," Fujiko drawled as she calmly regained composure and headed over to the back of the couch across from Jigen. Goemon braced himself for the interactions to come. She expelled a soft sigh for the luxurious bath that was now getting cold without her in it. Instead she would indulge them.

 

  
"I don't know about that," Goemon admitted.

 

"Do we have any leads?" Jigen tried to hide how pissed off he was while Fujiko sets herself down onto the couch.

 

"Faxa Bay, eight months ago," Goemon spoke. "We had the Jewels of Helen, if I am remembering correctly."

 

"Had being the operative word there." Jigen added, not bothering to hide his displeasure,

 

"Right, Fujiko?"

 

She rolled her eyes at his growing irritation. Iceland was still a sore spot it seemed. But she could tell he was itching for a confrontation, or something comparable. Men are so simple, she thought with a devious chuckle.

 

  
"Something funny? The world's oldest known printed text, a painting stolen by the mafia, two Egyptian artifacts that are probably cursed," Jigen spoke with growing irritation, "-oh, and the jewels we busted our asses for - the ones you swiped off us eight months ago. Yeah, that's a fuckin' riot."

  

"I'm taking a page from your book here, Jigen. Spare me the melodrama."

 

"Do you still have the Jewels of Helen at least?"

 

"Don't be ridiculous," Fujiko replied with ease, unsurprisingly candid. "I had a buyer that night."

 

"Then I'm inclined to agree with Jigen." the samurai echoed, trying to look past the classic pout that began forming on the woman's face. 

 

She knew that one day all of the times she'd double, _triple_ , **_quadruple_** \- crossed her sometimes cohorts could potentially come back to bite her. This was one of those times when she found herself struggling to fight the hot ache of angry pride bubbling up to the surface. She'd bested them that day in Iceland by involving herself, just as she had time and time again, and against her better judgement, she would involve herself again, but not for these men.

 

"I've got a few connections we can start looking into tomorrow," she sighed, her whole body rocking into the couch as she arose with intent.

 

  
The room was still. Fujiko's words fell through the air like gentle rain. Goemon wouldn't speak for his friend, but he felt oddly at ease. Jigen was quiet, somehow allowing the tension to ease, and eliciting a small, short sound of approval along with a lazy nod.

 

 _"Fine,"_ Jigen let out a sigh as he reached for a new cigarette in his breast pocket. "Tomorrow."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Fujiko returned to her bath, letting the water run hot once more. She removed her expensive pearl earrings, holding them tightly in hand, and dropped the fluffy bath robe she'd claimed earlier to the floor. _Finally_ , alone. There was little time to daydream, what with Lupin's predicament, but she couldn't stave off the small thoughts creeping in under the white noise of the running water. Less than a week ago she was in St. Petersburg. Less than a week ago she wasn't running for her life. But if there was anything Mine Fujiko knew how to do, it was run.

 

The thief had lived enough lives to be an expert in how to run from one. Fujiko slipped her now-naked body into the refilling bath, enjoying every bit of the near scalding temperature. She liked hot.

 

  
Fujiko sunk her head back to rest against the rim of the claw foot tub. That had the potential to be quite poetic, she'd thought. She lay soaking until new musings nipped at the edge of her mind; St. Petersburg, a waxing moon, three spectres - a sharp pang of betrayal. 

 

   
_Very poetic_. She closed her eyes and let the memories flood into the forefront of her mind. 

 

 

* * *

**Gorokhovaya Street, St. Petersburg, Russia - 02:09 PM**

 

  
_Cold, even in the early spring. The snow banks had yet to melt, and the yearly tourists had yet to visit for the popular spring festivals. Fujiko sat at a small cafe table clad in a fashionable black trench coat and slightly floppy wide-brim hat, hands grasping a simple white ceramic cup. The ambient drizzling of rain created a curtain that drowned out anything that dared steal her gaze._

 

_Artie - she was waiting for Artie. She was supposed to meet her ten minutes ago and she was starting to panic. For her, panic manifested itself in interesting ways. Right now it was a stillness that could mistaken her for a corpse posed and propped upright. And she knows very, very soon that is a complete possibility_

 

  
_"Izvinite*, a practiced voice called out from the rain; a young server who brought her a coffee earlier had now brought a message. Artie was gone - found a safe house far away, or maybe she was dead. This was her employers tying up the loose ends._

 

_"Miss?"_

 

_No one was coming, correction - no friend of hers was coming. She needed to leave. Wordlessly Fujiko rose. And the heavy and rapid pounding in her chest was mirrored in the growing downpour. Beads of water collided with the force of her body as she moved away from the cafe. Down the street, quick - down the side alley, run, run **, RUN!**_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Goemon seemed preoccupied himself, sitting across from his friend. There was a lot to think about, to process. Hell, Jigen still thought the whole thing was something he dreamed and he's just still asleep.

  
Goemon was always easier to read - _baser,_ somehow. He liked to pretend he was more disciplined, but he was a sinner just like the rest of them. Sometimes Goemon reminded Jigen of a boy running around with his fingers jammed in his ears, determined to keep out - god knows what. But every other job or so, Goemon would be brought further and further to that edge. He was a sinner just like the rest of them.

 

  
"Did she tell you anything?" The question was frustratingly transparent. Goemon wants to personally unroll all of Jigen's cigarettes.

 

"Why would she," he knew why Jigen was pushing this. Goemon hated to play stupid emotional games, but he still played them; mostly because he didn't understand normal social conventions, including but not limited to the desires of the heart.

 

"You know damn well why."

 

Goemon had done a fairly good job of keeping his own emotions exactly that - his own. Women had worked their way into his heart more times than he'd cared to admit.

 

"Should I leave, too?" The words were out of his mouth before could take them back. And when it was done, he felt the bitter coldness of them settle in the space between the men. No one spoke for a moment. Jigen still reclined, still dragging on his raggedy, old pall mall.

 

"Think very carefully about how you want this to go down," he eyed from under the brim of his hat, speaking in a dangerous tone. This tension was not new, but it was far from common. Even with Lupin at the head of their gang, the situation could've easily become a powder keg. Goemon and Jigen had squabbled in the past, scrapped a few times, but always ended the day with a mutual respect - not-so-fast friends, but friends.

 

"Something happened in St. Petersburg. A job most likely," Goemon confessed with resignation and a sigh while Jigen responded with a modest apology and not so modest victory in the form of a wry little smirk.

 

He'd won their little confrontation, even if it meant hurting his friend's pride. "She's running from whatever happened back there. Needs our - Lupin's help."

 

"Shit," he exhaled once more, filling his half of the room with smoke. Goemon relaxed into the silence as the other man enjoyed his nicotine buzz, trying to process all of the information of the evening. In that instance the night had been so peaceful.

 

Goemon felt as if the world had been stopped, the only noticeable movement being the billowing smoke leaving cool trails in the air. The moment is broken with the high pitched yell of _"I'm all pruney!"_ And Jigen's subsequent response, carrying that familiar wit he uses when Lupin's around. Goemon welcomes it for bringing his first genuine laugh he's had in a long time.

 

  
"She has such horrible timing."

 

  
Perhaps, Goemon muses, _perhaps_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Nestled safely in the shell of the opened envelope on the table was the dreaded list - hard lined and in black ink and penned into the paper reading;  
****

**_Tutankhamun's Dagger_ **  
**_Nefertiti's Bust_ **  
**_Diamond Sutra_ **  
**_Jewels of Helen_ **  
**_Caravaggio's Nativity_ **

 

_\- bonne chance_

_Vido_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> Izvinite: excuse me (formal)
> 
> if you've stuck around this far, thank you so much for indulging me xx


End file.
